Note: This is a story I started a while ago, that I just found a few days ago. It's an adventure-ish story, and it really starts going in Chapter 2. Tell me if you want Chap. 2!

-Emily

Some say there is no such thing as magic. They are fools. Ever since that flash when the earth was created, magic has been here. From this moment, to the next, and next, carrying on forever, there will be magic.

So just where, you might say, is this magic? Well, it is certainly not with those fraud magicians- pulling bunnies out of top hats and finding coins behind little children’s ears. Magic is with those whom magic chooses and with those who believe.

You might have heard of when the Pilgrims came to the New World. There were those that were escaping religious persecution. And then there were others. These people were the Strangers. And they were magic. These “magicians” were lead by Felix Tysca, who wanted to lead his people to a better world. Some of them stayed on the east coast. You may have heard of the Salem witch trials…

But what of the others? These are the people who “died” on the voyage to the New World, or “died” when they reached the New World. They colony or Roanoke was made of magicians who faked their deaths. Instead of actually dieing, the whole magic community gathered and were lead by Felix Tysca, along with his daughter Cornelia, to where the sand dunes of Oregon are today.

Going under the sand dunes, the magicians made their city, Tcheropa, where it is still standing today, having been cared for by its residents.

This is not that story of Felix Tysca or his daughter Cornelia. It is about his descendant, Wren Tysca, along with her best friend Patrick and little sister Elli.

When a teacher lives with your family, you hear all sorts of things. There was no exception to this in Wren Tysca’s family. Ever since Shelia Chen started paying her rent to the Tysca family, Wren found out about the happenings in grades eight through ten.

Several years went by, and Wren was finally at the day she’d been waiting for since age eight.

Mrs. Eastwood, her current teacher, was droning on about what a pleasure it had been to teach them all.

“Children, for the past three years I have been nurturing your minds. You started out as small, excitable little ten- year old children in fifth grade, and now you are thirteen years old in seventh grade- already teenagers!”

Yawning into her hand, Wren curled her dark brown hair on her index finger over and over. Focusing her gray eyes on Patrick, her best friend, Wren had to smile. Totally attentive to what Mrs. Eastwood was saying, Patrick didn’t notice Wren studying him. With dark brown hair and black skin, Patrick Javey could seem intimidating, what with his height and bulk. Though a tad bit scary, Patrick was still down to earth and friendly.

Turning her attention back to Mrs. Eastwood, Wren managed to hear whom the new teachers would be.

“And, children, as you know it is Tcheropa’s custom to separate the ladies from the gentlemen when they enter eighth grade. You all are no different. I’ll do the gentlemen first. You teacher will be….” Squinting to read the fine print through her purple, half-moon spectacles, Mrs. Eastwood continued “… Mr. Hataug.” Patrick nodded, pleased. Wren knew from the stories that Miss Austine told her and Patrick that Mr. Hataug was a good teacher.

Flipping through the pages of her clipboard, Mrs. Eastwood said “Ladies, you will be instructed by Miss Shelia Chen. Now, I know that most of you already know what happens in the upper grades, but I will clarify it for you. Your teacher will instruct you in most of the subjects you’ve studied in the past six years, just in shorter units. Most of your day will be spent studying magic. After you graduate from tenth grade, you will get your magic users learning permit.”

Pausing to take a big gulp of her tea, Mrs. Eastwood continued, “Then, for the remaining two years of your education, a person of our community who has retired and had a job you admired will take you and several other students on as apprentices to teach you what they know. Any questions? Yes, Aimee?”

“Missus Eastwood, what if we can’t find a teacher to teach us?” Aimee’s usual pale skin looked deathly white as she asked this question.

“Well, Aimee, I’m sure the School Board would help any child with this problem. Any other questions? No? Well, then you’re dismissed. Your teacher will see you bright and early at 8:00 on September 1st in the seventh through ninth grade building. Goodbye!”

Most of the students just rushed out, but Wren and Patrick lingered, saying goodbye to Mrs. Eastwood. After they finished their farewells and where outside, they jumped up and down, yelling “School’s out!”

Starting their walk home, Wren said, “I sure feel sorry for Aimee. Did you know she lives on Rose Street?”

Rose Street, as most people in Tcheropa knew, was the place where the poor children and their families lived.

“Yeah. I hope she gets a good job when she grows up, so that she won’t be back on Rose Street.”

Nodding her head in agreement, Wren said, “Patrick, Marie said that the war starts tomorrow.”

The ‘war’ was an ongoing battle all children fought in the streets during the summer. The teams were whomever you could get on your side. Double-crossing was quite frequent, as well as spying and other dirty tricks. It was a beloved tradition and most adults turned a blind eye towards it.

“Good. Who’ve we got on our side so far?”

“Lemme think…. We have Tommy, Aimee, Susan, Robert, what’s-his-name with the red hair…”

Thinking for a moment, Patrick said, “Oh, I know! It’s…um…Charles, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. A couple others are Ricky, Maritza, Shoshannah, Zeke, Leo and Marten. Oh, and of course us!”

Thinking over the names, Patrick said, “That’s a pretty good team. Ricky is the best thrower and Shoshannah runs pretty fast, doesn’t she? Everyone else is decent enough.”

Walking about ten more minutes in thoughtful silence, Wren realized something. “Pat, I forgot something.”

“What? Oh, and I told you not to call me Pat.”

“Well, Mom said that she can only put Michael in daycare this summer, so…”

“Oh, no! We have to watch Elli, right?”

Wren nodded glumly. Elita, or Elli as she was called, was Wren’s mischievous three-year-old sister.

“Yup. She’s been behaving a bit better recently.”

“Wren, remember we were three or four when we did our first wars?”

“Yeah.” Wren said, smiling slightly. “All the big kids never wanted us on their teams!”

Just then, they reached Patrick’s house.

“Buh-bye Pat.” Wren said teasingly.

“Oh, you Tyscas. Always so mean.” Patrick winked at Wren and then went inside.

Walking down to the end of the street, Wren went inside her house, yelling, “I’m home!”

“Wen! Wen! Wen! Come have tea paty with me!” Elli, being only three, still could not say her R’s, so Wren was Wen to her.

“Si, Elli, just let me put down my stuff and say hi to Mama.”

Walking into the kitchen, Wren had to duck because there were cooking utensils flying all over the place.

“Hola, Mama! Looks like you’re making something special tonight. I almost got bombarded with the residents of our pantry!”

“Oh, hi there sweetie. I’m making tortillas tonight, since today was the last day of school and I know it’s your favorite. Please go play with Elli and Michael--they’re going crazy with boredom is seems.”

“Were they being troublesome today, Mama? You look… frazzled.”

Francesca Tysca looked frazzled indeed. Her black hair was all frizzy and there were shadows under her eyes. Francesca Tysca was originally from the Mexico City magic community with a magical mama and a father who had no idea magic existed. She had moved to Tcheropa when she was 20 and a few years later, married William Tysca.

“Oh, they were just bouncing off the walls. When they saw you having chocolate chip pancakes, naturally they wanted some as well. That was the best way to make them stop whining, but I’ve suffered the consequences all day. Thanks goodness Michael will be in school next year!”

“Oh- Mom, I forgot to tell you! I have Shelia as my teacher!”

“Oh, that’s great, Wren!” In a teasing Francesca Tysca added, “Of course, you’ll have to call her Senorita Chen now!”

Pretending to pout, Wren said “I’d better go play with the ninos now. When’s dinner?”

“In a couple of hours. Have fun!”

“Wen! Tea paty now!”

“OK Elli. Let’s go.”